Monday, May 29, 2017

48 Hours (Poem)

I want to start writing love poems, but some man in the world has to give me that experience of being in love first. Until then, here's poem about the emotional rollercoaster known as lust.

Before you read, 72 hours is a metaphor for any time after 48 hours.

48 Hours

Its been 4 hours since you've left
I should be asleep but I can't stop thinking about you
There's something you don't know
Something I should have told you before that first kiss
For about 24 to 48 hours after we do this you're my man
I expect to see that look in your eyes that says even though you don't wanna leave, you have to
It's been 14 hrs and I haven't heard a word from you
You took too long to say something so I sent a text instead
We shouldn't be making this awkward
I'm not a prostitute
Remember how I told you to study every inch of my body while it was in front of you
The way my breasts perked up as you sucked on them
We came together for pleasure, not money
24 hrs have passed
Have you forgotten about me already?
I'm trying to focus on something else
But I can still feel your hands gripping my hips as you hit it from the back
Please don't disappear
Don't be the typical fuck boy
Waiting a week or two
Then calling again for more
48 hrs something tells me we ain't gonna last
I've gotten my gangsta back
And now I remember you just wanted to be another nigga on my hit list
You didn't have to say it
But it's showing in your lack of actions
72 hrs you're horny and ready to repeat this cycle of emotions all over again.

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